


asphyxia

by cerealmilk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Yachi Hitoka-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerealmilk/pseuds/cerealmilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yachi really wished she knew how to talk to people. That would make life all the more easy, it seemed. She wouldn’t stutter every time she heard her name, even if briefly, even if the topic wasn’t about her at all. She wouldn’t shout every time someone talked to her out of the blue.</p><p>But, of course, you never get what you want when you’re told you have social anxiety and a case of persistent paranoia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	asphyxia

**Author's Note:**

> asphyxia [noun]
> 
> 1\. a condition arising when the body is deprived of oxygen

Yachi really wished she knew how to talk to people. That would make life all the more easy, it seemed. She wouldn’t stutter every time she heard her name, even if briefly, even if the topic wasn’t about her at all. She wouldn’t shout every time someone talked to her out of the blue.

But, of course, you never get what you want when you’re told you have social anxiety and a case of persistent paranoia. Nobody would blame her if they knew what was wrong, but she hadn’t told anyone and therefore was diagnosed as ‘weird’ and ‘hyperactive.’

She had gotten used to it, of course, and had even laughed and agreed at times. If not to make them more comfortable, then to at least comfort herself because nobody else was going to. Nobody liked to talk about anxiety. Nobody liked dealing with it as an outside force, regardless of how much the martyr suffered.

But she was getting off topic now. This wasn’t about her jumpiness, this was about her inability to talk to people comfortably, which is what she had to do for the interview. The interview to become the manager for the Karasuno volleyball team, that is. _“Villager B can fight, too!”_ her words echoed in her head, but it wasn’t a reassuring force. It was more of a taunt.

There were so many ways she could mess this up— or anything could mess this up, in her eyes. What if a fire started? What if a robber broke in and kidnapped her? What would happen then? What if today was armageddon? What if the interviewer was actually a bear and had come only to devour her?

Before she knew it, she had arrived at the classroom the interview was to take place in. School had ended hours ago, so it was empty. Empty except for that beautiful female from earlier, but she may as well have counted as the entire class, plus the principal and her scary teacher from Class 5 homeroom.

Yachi, to put it bluntly, was terrified. Yet, even that was an understatement. Her hands were clammed up, balled into fists and shaking. Her chest felt like it was on fire, and the tight feeling of pensive fear spread all throughout the marrow of her bones.

The black haired beauty looked up upon her entrance, adjusting her glasses and smiling and inviting her to sit.

Yachi moved like a wind up toy: jerky, too fast at first and too slow at the end, sitting down clumsily with a stuttered greeting. Her cheeks flushed at the amused chuckle her blundering earned her, but the glasses-wearing girl didn’t taunt her, at least. She didn’t even seem to take note of it.

But how could Yachi know for sure? For all she knew, this girl could be jeering at her in her head. The small blonde looked deep into those midnight blue orbs and found only serenity. It was almost the look of a seasoned veteran whilst it simultaneously made her heart beat a little faster with how smooth the shades of blue intertwined.

The black-haired girl gave her name— Shimizu Kiyoko, but she told Yachi to just call her Kiyoko. Yachi nodded vigorously, of course, and even saluted to get the message across. This earned another small laugh. She was learning to treasure that sound, as it sounded less human and more like the angelic tinkling of bells in a soft summer breeze.

“What is your name?” Kiyoko asked, and Yachi very nearly died. Perhaps she actually did die, and her soul was currently on a wonderful voyage into the sun, because suddenly her tongue wasn’t working anymore and she really needed her soul back before she looked like an idiot.

“Y-yachi Hitok-ka,” she mumbled, but it was hardly comprehensive, even to herself. Her nerves were shocked, her mind going into overdrive. Her heart felt like it was pounding against her ribcage in an attempt to break free. Her thoughts were were erratic and suddenly she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs.

“I’m sorry, but could you repeat that?” said Kiyoko, voice gentle and soft and _perfect_ and Yachi just wished she would die right about now, before her panic attack really took it to the next step.

But, alas, wishes only come and go, and are never a guarantee.

Before she knew it she was crying, gasping for breath, her hands cradling her head and her whole body trembling violently. She couldn’t think straight, her thoughts were scrambled and frenetic and she wanted to be anywhere but _here,_ with anyone but _her,_ in any state but _this._

Gentle fingers carefully removed her hands from her face, and she looked up frantically, her eyes raw and wet and her breathing still uneven. Kiyoko stood there, her eyes full of concern, her expression everything soft and caring and as beautiful as Yachi had come to know it would always be.

Kiyoko ran her thumbs across her whitened knuckles, sitting down directly across from her and leaning close. “Come on, breathe with me,” she murmured, quietly, but with a sureness Yachi wished she had. “In, and out.” The black-haired girl said, breathing just as so for emphasis. Yachi tried to mimic her, but she was still shaking, still afraid.

“Come on,” Kiyoko prompted with nothing but patience. “In, and out. In, and out.”

Kiyoko’s breathing was steady, and the longer she sat there with her, hers began to fall in time. Her trembling hadn’t come to a complete and utter stop, but it had lessened to the point where it was barely noticeable. Her eyes were still raw, but she had stopped crying.

Kiyoko was the first to smile, and it was small but nothing had ever made Yachi feel so at peace. Said blonde grinned shortly after that thought, and even laughed a bit. “Thank you,” she whispered earnestly, but Kiyoko brushed it off with only a nod of her head.

“Are you okay now?” the older girl asked, and Yachi nodded, wiping her eyes and her nose on the sleeve of her sweater. Kiyoko’s smile widened slightly. “Perfect,” she said, straightening her posture, but not letting go of the blonde’s hands.

“I never got your name,” she said, eyes twinkling in amusement and Yachi’s heart absolutely melted. “Yachi,” she replied, still shaken, but audible. “Yachi Hitoka.”

And they carried on the interview as such. The more time that passed, the better Yachi felt until she was answering her questions as enthusiastically as ever, elaborating when Kiyoko asked and quieting when she knew she had spoken to much.

Kiyoko had only let go of one of her hands so that she could write down what she needed, but their other hands were still laced together, with Kiyoko’s thumb rhythmically brushing across her knuckles in a comforting, tender gesture.

When it was over, Kiyoko walked her out of the school and even back to her own home, bidding her farewell and saying she was excited to see her at practice timorrow. They parted ways at the front gate, Yachi letting go of her hand but instantly missing the warmth it had offered. She waved at Kiyoko until the older girl was out of sight and then let her hand fall to clutch her chest, to futilely silence the beating of her own heart.

The small blonde sucked in a breath, grinned, and ran up the stairs to tell her mother the news.

**Author's Note:**

> On a scale of one to gay these two are very, very gay.


End file.
